


Fragile Things

by partsofthewholepicture



Series: Things [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, College Student Derek, College Student Stiles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 17:24:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2158950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partsofthewholepicture/pseuds/partsofthewholepicture
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles swears he is just fine without Derek Hale. He has moved on, but there is a photograph he still looks at each day. A photo which states Derek Hale isn't someone you just get over.</p>
<p>Or in which Stiles pretends he doesn't need Derek but gladly lets Derek back into his life rather easily even though Derek is hiding things from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile Things

_Derek steps closer to Stiles, catching him before he tumbles to the ground on his face. “You don’t have to need me. You don’t even have to like me. I don’t even get why you care that I left…”_

_"You don’t get why I care that you left…"Stiles echoes, smirking as though he has just heard the funniest joke in a long time._

__

__

*****

“Did you still want to grab dinner later?” The voice over the phone jolts him out of his reverie, brings him back to the present time. She sounds concerned, wanting to quell the invisible scars he bears but never tells her about. He has built up these walls to keep most people at bay, but she tries to catch glimpses when he allows her.

She doesn’t try and push him because she know it will only cause him to retreat. However, she has spent these last few months trying to discern who Stiles Stilinski is. He doesn’t share much about his past; he will shut down in the most profuse ways if she even teases him about having his heart broken by a previous flame. Stiles lets out the breath he has been holding, leaning back against the couch before answering her. He takes a moment to glance over at the bent photo leaning against his mirror, masquerading as a man who doesn’t even care about the way his heart shatters each time he looks at the face staring back at him. Having a picture of him and Derek together means next to nothing, Stiles just doesn’t like throwing sentimental items away.

He doesn’t care about how ecstatic he appears in the photo. The way his eyes are full of light as he looks at the camera as though nothing could go wrong in his future. What he doesn’t even think about late at night during those panic attacks is the way Derek is looking at him instead of the camera, his arm linked around Stiles’ waist to keep him close. Minute details such as those are not important. Derek left, and he has moved on. End of story, really.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” he answers hollowly. “See you about six.” He hangs up the phone without saying goodbye, tossing it beside him. The photo seems to be beckoning to him, begging for him to take a closer look and decipher where everything seemed to take a downward spiral. He has such a knack for detail and figuring the world out in his own way, it still bothers him he hasn’t been able to ever really decode Derek Hale. He tried for the time they were together [if it could be called that] but he was constantly kept at arms length. Derek brushed it off as being substandard at sharing his emotions, but he furiously claimed he did care. He was just really poor at conveying the sentiment. He was skilled, however, at leaving without a goodbye and then reappearing whenever it pleased him.

He pushes himself off the couch, padding over to the mirror and picking up the picture with his hand. Part of him wants to crumple it in his fist and throw it away for good. Then it would the last trace of Derek Hale extinguished from his life. Instead, he presses the photograph against his chest as though just the contact will return to him those missed sensations of strong arms around his waist and stubbled chin brushing against his neck. Instead all he feels is the smooth gloss finish beneath his fingertips. Once again, his optimism has gotten the best of him. After all, it has been a year. Derek has moved on with his life and so has he. Returning the photo to its resting place, Stiles should know better than to do what he is about to.

He sits back down on the couch and scrolls through his contacts. He doesn’t even need to look at the number because he knows it by heart. But after that night, he changed the contact name to “Douchewolf” and swore he would delete it eventually. Just having it for those few days after was so he could tell Derek it was all over. But still, the name and number still reside in his phone. If he is being honest with himself, Stiles knows there is no realistic way of diminishing all traces of the infamous Hale from his life.

There is a long pause of staring at the screen before he gathers his courage to send the message. Stiles has typed out a simple “I think we should talk”, there are no hidden meanings for Derek to uncover. Just a straightforward statement. The past months have been spent trying to avoid all contact at any costs, but now as the sent message notification pops up, Stiles knows perhaps there is no such commodity as “too late.”

***

“It’s not going to work anymore.”

She holds her breath, bringing her hand up to her chest to try and hold in the breath she feels stolen away by his uninvolved tone.

“…Is this about him? The man in the photo?” Her lip trembles slightly, noticing the shift of his body already positioned towards the door.

Stiles doesn’t meet her eyes, just stares at the ground with guilt laden eyes.

She reaches out for him, hoping her months of trying to break through the resolve will come to fruition. Instead, the only discernible sound is him exhaling the breath he had been holding and the small click of the door as he leaves.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

***

“I am sorry if I say I need you.”

Stiles places his hands behind his head and stares at Derek with an incredulous look upon his face. He contemplates just explaining to how much he has missed his Douchewolf the entire time they have been apart, but he knows it will only serve to eradicate any progress he wants to accomplish. His last intent is to cause more screaming and barriers between them, but he wants to call Derek out for daring to say something Stiles feels he has no right to say after Derek’s actions the last time they had seen one another.

“You have spent the last year completely removing all traces of me from your life. I called you after you left me standing alone in the parking lot like a fucking idiot. I called you everyday for a month and didn’t even get a fuck off or anything,” Derek informs him, rubbing his jaw and shaking his head in frustration. “I know that what I did was fucked up, but I really thought you all of people wouldn’t freeze me out in such a callous manner.”

“You don’t get to make this about you, Derek,” Stiles replies with a smirk, suppressing the urge to add in a sarcastic quip while he has the chance. He is doing well holding himself together even though he wants to just throw himself at Derek and pretend as though they are just fine. He could easily resort to a state of ignorant bliss if meant having the slightest opportunity to recapture what he and Derek once shared.

“I am not making this about me!” Derek snarls, losing his calm and storming over to stare at Stiles with icy blue orbs that could kill.

Stiles chokes back a laugh, stepping back in defense. “I hate how you can just get under my skin without even really trying. All you have to do is just be in my presence and I start to lose my sanity a little bit more. You are the one who is telling me you need me and that you didn’t think I was going to push you away. Funny, I am not sure how else I could have reacted when you left town one day without a goodbye and then show up again to treat me like a naughty child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.”

A strange tension dissipates between them. Derek closes the gap between them while Stiles drops his arms to tilt his head inquisitively in response. Derek lets out a low growl followed by a string of curse words beneath his breath. With a shake of his head, his hand reaches out and cups Stiles’ behind the neck. Pulling him close, he presses his lips against Stiles with all of the pent up anger and tension radiating from each hungry collision of their mouths. He holds the kiss for a moment before breaking away, breathless and stunned at the same time. “I told you that you had been suffocating me, and It was not fair of me to throw such weighted words at you. I had just been feeling overwhelmed from what had been going between us,” Derek tells him, trying to find the right words somewhere within his lexicon. “You know how fucking bad I am at dealing with all of all the emotional shit, but I should have tried harder. Instead of running away, I should have told you how I was feeling. I was wrong to say you were suffocating me when you really were the one who was trying to help me to breathe. Fuck, that sounds so cheesy. But you know what I mean. I just couldn’t deal with…everything.”

“Derek, I wasn’t asking to get married or anything,” Stiles deadpans.

“You don’t understand how many times I have wanted to just come back and tell you how sorry I was. Or how long I have been thinking about kissing you like that. I just…”Derek sighs, kissing Stiles again harder. He nipples at Stiles’ bottom lip, eliciting the a small moan he had grown so accustomed to hearing from the time they had spent together. The familiar is comforting, and it feels right to have those lips against his again. “I was scared before, but now I am not.”

Stiles licks his lips. “You just kissed me like nothing was amiss between us.”

Derek nods his head slowly, no hesitation.

“Suddenly you want me the way I had wanted you for the longest time.”

Derek shakes his head, denying his actions can be construed as sudden.

“What the hell do you want from me, Derek?”

Stiles reaches up and traces his finger along Derek’s jaw, remembering how he would do the same when he couldn’t sleep the nights after they would fumble into a dark dorm after a night of too much drinking and excuses of how this was going to be the last time.

“I’m sorry.” Derek closes his eyes, searching for more of the right words. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He wants to kiss him again, to just act like they are going to be just fine now that they have talked and shared their feelings. But he knows that is not realistic. He doesn’t know the right words to explain how he knows there is never going to be a perfect ending for them. Derek knows he should tell Stiles why he left in the first place, but he wants to keep this moment for himself right now. He wants to be selfish and happy. They can deal with the truth later, right?

Stiles keeps his hand against Derek’s face, smiling at him. He doesn’t know the thoughts running through Derek’s mind as of this moment, he is only thinking about how he doesn’t feel quite so alone anymore. He states, “ I have been so intrigued by you for so long. You don’t show any emotion because you see it as a sign of weakness, but yet somehow….you’re telling me you need me. I have waited a long time for this, but I didn’t know what I was expecting. I just want to feel more than just numbness all of the time, you know?”

Derek knows the time to tell the truth is now and it is sitting on the tip of his tongue. But he can’t. He musters up his best everything is fine facade and replies, “But I am telling you I am sorry, which is really what counts.”

“And I know you would never lie to me,” Stiles murmurs, pressing his lips against Derek’s gently as though the world is just fine. For now, at least, it is.


End file.
